No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
by Alien-Queen-Stan
Summary: Reader stumble upon someone who needs their help. Too bad they forgot that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
1. Chapter 1

"Thanks for fixing me up doc, if you ever need anything just ask," the man huffed as he stretched his newly healed arm, testing the limits of the muscle and skin you had just spent so much time skillfully piecing back together.

You had to refrain from scoffing at the display, you do the equivalent of a modern day miracle and here he was doubting your work.

"Funny, don't think you're the type of guy I'd run to in need of a favor" you practically mumbled as you eyed him.

The man,Yamaguchi, was a local kingpin after all, definitely not the type of guy you'd want to be indebted to for whatever reason. You definitely didn't want to be entangled in his world anymore than you already were either. You'd been tasked with fixing him up a few times over the years and each time he seemed to be brought back to you more beat up and mangled than before.

"Come on now, you know me," and don't you wish you didn't, maybe then you wouldn't have to spend so much time putting him back together every other week like some absurd jigsaw puzzle. After getting so mangled time and time again you'd have thought he'd hang up his title and get out of the seedy underbelly of the city while he still had all his limbs attached. Somewhere along the lines you'd probably fucked up, he probably was under the impression you'd always be there to piece him back together again."I ain't that bad of a guy."

You couldn't stop the scoff at that statement, "Nah, just a morally and ethically questionable one. No?"

You'd seen what Yamaguchi and his syndicate did to people who crossed them, you'd also seen all the havoc he'd brought into the community with all the drug trafficking and racketeering that had exploded in the area the moment he had decided to set foot into the ward. Of course the community had never been perfect, there had always been crime and with it gangs and syndicates looking to flip a dollar were never too far off, but since he came around with the new drugs he had brought with him it seemed as if all of the factions in the area had upped their antics in order to try and compete. It made you wonder the type of people he'd deem worse than him.

You were positive they existed, the man in front of you was no saint but Yamaguchi had never gone out of his way to hurt people uninvolved with his business and doings - something he eagerly reminded you of each time you saw him. You'd counter with the fact that he indirectly had involved countless people due to how interpersonal drugs and violence can be but he always shrugged it off with a wave of his hand and an insistence you were caught up in semantics. Either way. the fact your local boogeyman was saying he wasn't nearly as awful as he could be had you wondering of the types of characters he must have dealt with on the regular to give him the impression that he 'wasn't that bad of a guy'.

"Look at that," Yamaguchi exclaimed to one of his lackeys that had been sitting in the room while you worked on him, "she's starting to learn." The other man had been one you saw frequently during your visits. He was built more like a mountain than an actual human and his face was always frozen in what you assumed to be a permanent scowl at this point. A word had never been said between the two of you and you had been more than happy to keep things that way. He was there to make sure you didn't kill his boss after all, you'd seen the muscles in his face and arms twitch a time or two, usually when you'd said something that could've easily provoked your patient, and you'd felt your life flash before your eyes each time. Making his acquaintance wasn't exactly high on your to-do list….

You'd had similar conversations with the kingpin before when you were patching him up, honestly you were surprised he hadn't just killed you for your statements or questions. You'd heard of people dying for less when interacting with people like him and your mama always did say your mouth was going to be the death of you. Surprisingly, however, he seemed more amused by your comments than anything else. Each one always brought some odd look of glee and satisfaction to his face, and he'd always eagerly entertain your statements and do his best to incite a whole conversation with you.

Yamaguchi was talkative for a drug lord in your humble opinion, he seemed more than willing to tell you any and everything with little to no insistence on your part. He his nothing from you, often giving you names of specific people he worked with or police stations and hero agencies he'd paid off, or times and dates he'd be somewhere to pick up his product or who his distributors were. It was the type of information heroes and detectives across the country would give an arm and a leg for and here he was just tossing it out without a care in the world.

You'd wondered how he lasted as long as he had with such a loose tongue. You'd seen plenty of people come and go doing this type of business, what usually did them in is that they told the wrong person the wrong thing. However, from what you could see Yamaguchi ran a tight ship, and if something were to slip they'd know you were the snitch - with him having planted some of his own men in local police forces if you had even thought of giving them information he'd know the second you walked through the police station door. It seemed money and having the right people on his bankroll was able to solve any problem Yamaguchi had even if they were caused by his own negligence.

"Well if that's all...," you said as you began to collect your things and move towards the door. Your patience that day had been tried and tested and you had no interest in entertaining this conversation with the drug lord any longer. You had been on your way home before some of his lackeys had tracked you down and demanded you give their boss a house call. All you had really been wanting to do since stepping foot into the room had been to high tail it out of there and get home to your loving bed that was waiting for you.

"Yeah, yeah," Yamaguchi said waiving an arm in your direction, "I can have some of my men take you home," he suggested, "it's getting late, the regulators are gunna be out soon."

"No, no, no," you quickly interjected, "Thanks for the offer but it's fine. They won't bother me none."

The thought of having to share a small space with some men, all on high protein diets and prone to violence, didn't really sound like a good time to you even if it was just for a few moments. Besides, regulators in the area had learned to avoid hassling you if they wanted their friends or themselves to be patched up so you'd much rather take your chances walking home. It was just a few blocks away from where you currently were, practically a hop and a skip - you'd be home in no time, probably before the street lamps finally came on.

"Suit yourself," he relented easily enough, "but I don't know how I'll be able to focus on my work when I'm worried my sweet little doctor had to walk home all by herself."

Having the kingpin joke with you and talk so familiarly with you had been alarming when it first started happening. You remember how you had practically choked on your own spit the first time it happened from the shock of it all. However, now it was nothing new.

"My heart bleeds for you," you said with a roll of you eyes and a slight wave in goodbye as his laughter followed you as you eagerly made your exit.

Finally making it back to the outside world you let out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding and all the tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away. You'd been dealing with folks like him for years now, hell living in this ward you'd grown up with plenty of the folk. That was probably what caused you so much anxiety, at least with others in the area you had grown up with them and there seemed to be a mutual understanding of what you would and wouldn't tolerate. With Yamaguchi, however, there were just too many variables at play, you didn't know him like you knew the others and that's what made working with him so dangerous.

Kicking a small pebble along on your walk home you couldn't help but get annoyed that the only reason you had to interact with the man was entirely your fault. You had been the one to want to start using your quirk for people in the community. That had been entirely your idea after all, Yamaguchi was just using a service you freely offered to people in the area.

Growing up in the ward, there had always been a lack of decent medical care for its residents. There were no doctor's offices or clinics present, hell the closest hospital was twenty or thirty minutes away depending on if you took public transportation to get there or not. Most medical institutions were unwilling to set up facilities in the area due to the high levels of crime and villain activity and the inability of the local government or hero agency's to control it. You supposed you could understand an outside perspective somewhat, going to work in this ward and having to deal with trauma patients day in and day out would get taxing, not to mention expensive for the institution. With the median income for the ward being well below the national average that only further incentivised the medical field to avoid the place. They weren't interested in helping unless they were going to be making money off of it. Clinics and the likes had been started by members of the community to try and combat the issue but with how underfunded and high in demand they were it wasn't long until the clinics had become unable to keep up with the pressure and eventually it's doors would close. You had seen numerous preventable illnesses spread like wildfire throughout the community as well as individuals in pain and suffering from injuries or conditions that could be easily treated if they were able to get to a hospital, or doctor, or somebody.

It rattled you to your core on occasion when you thought of just how neglected and disposable to people of the ward were being treated.

With your quirk you knew you could help alleviate that struggle, at least a little bit so a little over three years ago that's what you started doing. It had first started with just your neighbors in your apartment complex, you had offered to give them check ups and fix whatever you could fix during certain times and days should they choose to seek you out - no questions asked or judgements made on how or why there were certain injuries that looked to be results of activity in violent crimes. Soon enough, word had spread about your work and how you were willing to keep quiet on certain things and next thing you know you're basically the resident doctor and taking care of bullet wounds or quirk related injuries occured as often for you as treating a child's cold.

You just wanted to get these people on their feet and feeling better again. There wasn't much you could do to try and help aside from that, you weren't a cop or a hero, you were just...well not a doctor either but your quirk sure as hell made you qualified enough in your own right to stick to just healing the body and mind- you didn't know how to do anything else.

Sometimes you would be able to bargain with some of the syndicates, it was never a good situation and you felt like an idiot sticking your neck out and just hoping it wouldn't get removed from your shoulders. However, for the most part, while they weren't very eager and you had been on your fair share of threats of violence for it, they had agreed to your terms however begrudgingly. So far you'd manage to make them agree to only having their regulators out after the street lamps came on - giving enough time for children or the elderly or anyone else to get inside so they didn't become collateral in some turf war or dispute between factions. You'd also managed to get some to agree to keep away from certain areas, naimly school's, religious institutions and playgrounds. Both cases had you nearly at your wits end dealing with the various leaders and higher ups of each syndicate but eventually a majority of them had agreed to the terms you required in order for you to keep fixing up their people.

It wasn't as if these were wild terms to agree to to begin with, many members of these organizations lived in the area and had a family or loved one's in the area who they wanted to protect. In the end, even if it did disrupt their business or how they handled things - it seemed most of them could acknowledge that changing the way things were done could prevent them from losing someone they cared about so it had been enough of an incentive, on top of a pretty much guaranteed one stop shop for healing any would, for them to agree. A few cases here and there had them going against the terms but honestly you were just happy something had changed, even if just a little.

At the end of the day these people were your patients, if you agreed with everything they did was besides the point. You had just grown so tired of seeing people hurt and sick when you knew you could do something to stop it. Even still, at this point if you denied your services you're fairly certain you and the people you care for would quickly become a target, you didn't want to be endorsing their behavior - not even passively- but you were in far too deep at this point to back out now. All because you had to go and stick your nose into other people's business.

'The road to hell is paved with good intentions all that,' you couldn't help but think bitterly as you practically had to drag yourself home. Yamaguchi had been your fifth patient that day, not to mention you had been at work for eight hours prior, needless to say you were exhausted. Your quirk didn't have too bad of side effects for you, you had healed people with much worse, but it sure as hell left you drowsy beyond all belief. There were only two more blocks until you could finally fall into the comfort of your bed. That was the only thought motivating you enough to actually keep moving and not crash where you stood. Just two more blocks and you could finally wrap yourself in your favorite most plush blanket and have yourself a well deserved siesta.

Your daydreams about the rondevu with your bed were interrupted when you heard the sounds of shuffling followed by what sounded like metal banging together and a low groan. Your face fell and you cursed whatever god had decided to give you a far too curious and altruistic nature.

A few feet ahead of you was the entrance to an alley you passed everyday on your walk to and from work. There was no doubt in your mind the noise had come from there and that those groans were definitely groans of pain. Dealing with as many injured people as you did the sound became pretty easy to distinguish for you. However, you stayed firmly planted where you stood.

To help, or not to help. Now there was a question that could potentially be the death of you. This could just be a front, some people could just be waiting on some air head with far too kind of a heart to help someone in need only to end up jumping them and robbing them. Realistically, even if it wasn't a front, this person wasn't your responsibility. It was far more likely you didn't know them and had no ties or obligation to them. You were just some civilian heading home, things didn't need to be more complicated than that.

Or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it wasn't any of your business the thought of just walking away left you downright nauseous and had your gut twisted in the worst of ways.

"If this is how I die, I swear to god…," you grumbled to yourself as you inched your way towards the mouth of the dark alleyway. Here you were knownlingly walking straight in to some cliche out of a movie script. How many times had you yelled at the T.V. telling the actor to just mind their own business and keep it movin? Yet here you were, you were stupid for doing this. Whoever was hurting had crawled into an alley for a reason, they obviously didn't want to be found. Who were you to deny them their privacy?

As you peered around the corner, the fading light of sun and the overhanging shadows of the buildings caused you to have to squint just the slightest in order to make out the figure hunched over by a dumpster and some garbage bags tossed haphazardly near it. They were hunched over and facing away from you, they seemed to be using one arm on the dumpster to keep themselves somewhat standing with their other arm pressed into their side to, what you could only assume would be an attempt to, apply pressure to a wound. You couldn't make much out from their appearance, just that they stood a good few inches taller than you and that they appeared to be a man.

"Hello," you called out taking a step into the space. You've approached strangers in dark alleys before due to your work, some in these types of situations tended to be volatile or hostile so you were a bit weary of getting too close. You were fairly confident you could handle yourself, your quirk could damage people just as well as it could fix them and with them being injured it would be more difficult for them to try and pull something fast by you. However, people in these situations were unpredictable, adrenaline without a doubt flooding their system and their mind racing a mile a minute, there was no real way of knowing if they would attack you or not until they did it.

The moment the word had passed your lips their head had whipped up at the sound so quickly you were slightly concerned they may get whiplash from the action. Bright turquoise eyes had turned to face you and suddenly all of the anxiety you should've been feeling before came bubbling to the surface. The eyes were focused solely on you with such an intense look it had been damn near overwhelming, you were rooted in your spot for a moment before you were able to recollect yourself and remember just what it was you were doing in this damp and dark alleyway to begin with.

"You're hurt," you had meant for it to be a question but looking at the man the pain he was undeniable. His breathing seemed labored and heavy and blood soaked through his clothing, if it was his or not you could exactly tell. However, the way his face was screwed up and how he seemed to be gritting his teeth told you all you needed to know.

You held your hands up in what you hoped he'd take as a non-threateningly gesture, it was so hard in this day and age of quirks to know what gestures would signal an attack, as you took a few small steps towards him.

He gave a sudden jerky movement, if he meant to move towards you or away from you - you weren't exactly sure, but his legs gave out from under him soon enough and he let out a mumbled expletive as he fell back against the dumpster. His breathing devolved into a series of labored wheezing and coughs and it was clear that this man wasn't moving by himself any time soon.

"I can help you," you said in what you hoped was a calm and confident tone. You weren't so sure anymore. Your heart rate had spiked from his quick movement, you don't know this man or if he had a quirk that was dangerous, and your tongue felt heavy and your mouth dry as you took another few steps towards him. You still had your hands raised as you approached him like you would a wounded animal. He certainly looked the part, disheveled as he was and his eyes sharp and wild looking as they were.

When you were less than a few feet from him, he had raised the arm that had been against his side and a bright blue flame erupted from his hand. It hadn't been enough to touch you or harm you, but you could feel the sweltering heat from where you stood. The warning in the action was clear.

He went to say something but his body was soon overcome with a coughing fit that had the fire extinguished and him doubled over again. You took the opportunity to go to his side and help support him as you assessed his condition.

"Look I don't care why you wound up beat to shit and left in a pile of trash, that's not important," this speil had practically become second nature to you, as if you were on autopilot as the hand you had placed on his back and the one on his injured side began to glow with the activation of your quirk. Plenty of patients you had to deal with had been far more hostile than he was being, you took what little comfort you could from that fact, "Just let me help you and after we can both pretend like this never happened."

Your quirk allowed you to manipulate the biological structure of organic matter, while the practical uses were far more reaching than fixing body tissues or helping fight off illness you had never cared to use it to harm another unless given no other option. Taking his quietness and lack of resistance as a good sign for future cooperativeness, you used your quirk to feel about the various tissues and cells in his body and quickly the issue became apparent. Aside from some cuts and bruises he had traumatic pneumothorax. A blow to his chest undoubtedly had resulted in a few ribs breaking and one of them had punctured his lung causing it to collapse.

"Look, I'm sure you could've guessed but you're not really in a good way right now," you began as you started to gather the energy you needed to heal his injuries, "Pretty uncomfortable right? Well, I can help you out and you can walk out of this alley yourself or i can happily leave your ass here. You'll probably die of fluid build up in the lung but shock is also a bitch to deal with, but with how heavy you're breathing you also seem to be having trouble getting enough oxygen so passing out before all of that is pretty likely," you said. You didn't normally like talking with patients in such a tone but with the more hostile and bullheaded one's it tended to get them to listen to reason, "We can do that or I can help you out of the goodwill of my heart, but you just can't go about setting me on fire, alright?"

You searched his eyes for any sign of aggression or resistance. You really hoped the idiot just sucked up his pride and agreed. It really wouldn't sit right with your conscious to just leave him here.

He seemed to debate it for a moment before giving a less than enthusiastic nod. It was more than enough for you and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding. Relief flooded your system that he agreed to cooperate and that you could do your job and didn't have to worry about if he was gunna reduce you to a pile of ashes or not.

However, just when you had gathered the energy needed to begin healing his more serious injuries his free hand suddenly grabbed one of your own. You couldn't fight back the flinch as his quick movement startled you. So much for cooperative..

Playing hot and cold with someone on their death bed wasn't exactly how you had imagined your night going and if he was just going to keep this up he could get himself out of this situation. "Look, If you don't want me to-" you began irritable.

"They're going to come looking for me…" he said between his heavy breathing. His voice deep and gravely as it grated on your senses that where already overstimulated from the adrenaline pumping through your system due to how fond he seemed to keep giving you jump scares.

You considered your options and couldn't stop your hand from running down your face as you realized there really was only one in this situation. "Normally I have men buy me a drink before I take them home…," you sighed. Well you supposed the other option could just be to cut your losses and leave him here. To bad your mother raised you to be a decent human.

Hauling him to his feet was a difficult task, but not impossible. Luckily he wasn't heavily built but unluckily he was much taller. One of his arms was slung around your frame as he leaned over you with your arm wrapped around his waist to keep him propped up. His face was practically buried in your hair and he was hunched over due to the height difference, but it would have to do. As you made your way to the last block towards your apartment it probably just looked like you were helping him home after a...Wednesday afternoon spent drinking. A bit odd but not entirely out of place in this ward.

You tried to move him as gently as possible but you really didn't want to be out on the street with him like this any longer than necessary. Drawing any type of attention to yourself would surely get a regulator's attention and depending on who had fucked him up so badly things could get ugly from there quickly. You could tell he tried to restrain his groans as shudders raked through his body from the jostling the walking did to his ribs.

By some miracle you had made it to your apartment complex without anyone stopping you on the walk over and you wanted to cry in relief at the fact none of your neighbors were out and about. Getting him inside the apartment had been a cakewalk outside of the shuffling for your keys. You're pretty sure he had let out a chuckle at your groans of annoyance at having to fiddle with the lock and twist the door knob this way and that to get the damn thing to actually open, but you couldn't be sure.

You mourned for your couch as you laid him down on it and began to work your magic. He was covered in grime and dirt and a few blood stains, getting all of that out was going to be a pain in the ass. You had bought it new and everything, what a shame.

You were quick to get to work, your hands glowing and illuminating the dark room as you set about putting him back together, and thankfully he didn't seem too intent on stopping you anymore.

You made quick work repairing the damaged cells and clearing his body of debre and fluids so that the tissues of the lung could repair and the bone could be shifted back into place and fixed. At some point between you starting and ending the healing process he had fell unconscious. You weren't sure if it was the shock and fatigue finally setting in or if he had been worn out from whatever fight he had been in but you were thankful to be saved from what would've probably been an awkward conversation after you had finished.

Taking a moment to breath you leaned back and you were finally able to actually observe just who it was that was posted up on your couch. His eyes had been the only thing you had focused on before, they had been so striking in his intensity, but now that you were finally able to actually see him, even in the darkness that had enveloped the room due to you not turning on the light when you rushed him inside, you noted just how striking the rest of his features were.

He had what looked to be burn marks long since scarred over that left a purpilish color covering a majority of the visible skin you could see. Surgical staples seemed to be holding the scarred tissue to the undamaged skin and you wondered vaguely if you should go about healing those wounds as well. His hair was dark and disheveled with sweat sticking it to his forehead. You had seen his face screwed up in pain since you first laid eyes on him but here, sleeping as deeply as he was, you were able to truly see the various contours of his face so much more clearly.

You let out a soft hum in thought as you got up from your spot beside him and moved to get a blanket for him. You didn't have the heart to wake him up and kick him out after all of that, besides your bedroom door locked and any attempt to bust that in or burn it down would surely wake you up. It wasn't that big of a deal anyhow, plenty of patients as dangerous as him had spent the night before with little incident.

You quickly wrote down a note for him giving him your name and explaining the situation in case he woke up disoriented and left it on the coffee table in a way you would hope would get the stranger to notice it before he decided whether or not to burn your apartment down.

Throwing the blanket on him you were quick to exit the room as if you were the one intruding and make your way to your bedroom. Hopefully you'll be able to get some sleep before your shift early in the next morning.


	2. Conversations With A Stranger

You woke to a bump in the night.

Because, of course, your little houseguest didn't have the courtesy to just stay asleep, you thought as your hand dragged across your sheets in a half conscious search for your phone. Waking up had always been difficult for you, swimming through the murky waters sleep provided to drag your consciousness back into the present had never been an easy feat and this was no different. The light from the phone screen blinded you and you needed to take a moment to adjust. When you saw the time on the display, you could barely hold back the groan of annoyance.

"3:30...really?" you questioned under your breath as you tossed the phone aside. You and the stray you had managed to pick up couldn't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep. How the stranger on your couch managed to feel rested enough to be moving around and making so much noise was a mystery to you. Closing your eyes, just for a moment you had told yourself, you began to drift back off the the sleep your body desperately needed. Your body practically melted into the warm cocoon of blankets surrounding you and you were on the very edge of consciousness when another loud thump from the person in your living room had you startling awake. It seemed your guest had no intention of letting you sleep.

Staring at the ceiling, you began to tap one of your fingers against the back of your other hand as you thought about just what to do now. Should you go out there and see if the guy needed help? It wasn't as if you were their parent or anything and if he was up and moving then he probably intended to leave. While you wouldn't have advised him to be up and moving for at least an hour or two longer, who were you to stop him? He was grown and had spent far more time in his body than you had when you were repairing the damage, surely he would know what's best for himself.

But then again the thought of letting a stranger roam your home unsupervised didn't sit too well with you. While you tried to avoid assuming the worst of people, you didn't know this man. You hadn't even had what could remotely be considered a single conversation with him. All you knew was that someone saw it fit to leave him half dead in an alley and as much as you hated to think it that wasn't much of a ringing endorsement. He could very much be the type to just end up robbing you. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time a patient of yours thought to do so.

Even with these thoughts swimming in your head you had still been tempted to just call it a night. Let him take whatever he deemed valuable enough to be bothered with as long as you got an extra hour of sleep and he closed the door on the way out who cared? The most expensive thing in your possession was probably your phone, everything else in your apartment was second hand or as cheap as you could get it, so it wouldn't be too big of a loss if he took anything.

But it would be a pain in the ass to replace.

And that's the thought that got you up and out of bed at such an ungodly hour. You tried to be as quiet as possible as you shifted off of your bed and made your way to the door, soft curses leaving your mouth when your feet touched the cold floor.

Funny, it was only really now that you began to wonder just who it was you had let into your home. You had been too focused on getting him in the apartment and fixed up, and after that was done all you had been worried about was finally getting some rest. You hadn't put any thought into who he was or just what he was capable of.

Your mother had always complained about your one track mind. She'd even lectured you a time or two about your bleeding heart as well, going on about how you couldn't very much right the wrongs of the world or help people who weren't looking for assistance. In your still sleep deprived state you couldn't help but think she might've just had a point as you opened the door.

You padded down the hall, noting that you hadn't heard much of anything from the man since getting out of the warmth of your bed. You were equal parts annoyed and hopeful that there was a possibility you had gotten out of bed for nothing.

He froze when you had entered the room, the creak of the floorboards altering him of your presence. Shadows gathered in the far corners of the space and if it wasn't for the dim glow of the street lamp outside the window you would hardly be able to tell where the shadows ended and he began. Washed in the gold light you could make out faint details of him, the tension in his shoulders and the narrowed eyes reminding you all too much of a cornered animal.

The teal of his eyes showed an emotion but it was difficult for you to place. You could practically see the gears turning, the emotion behind his eyes seemed crude, raw, as if he was the coyote stuck in the gleaming steel jaws of the trap, biting off his leg in a last ditch effort to survive. He was all sharp teeth and rough edges and you made a mental note to keep your guard up around him. You brought a stray home afterall, you shouldn't be surprised if it decided to bite.

It wasn't until he began to pull himself up from the floor that you realized he must've fallen off the couch. If it was in his sleep or when you assumed he had made to get up to leave you couldn't tell for sure. With how cagey he seemed to be it was probably the latter, your quirk tended to leave people light headed and fatigued and on an occasion or two had left people with neurally mediated syncope for a week given that their injuries were serious enough to require manipulation of their nervous system. You had been getting better at lessening the severity of it but if he was anything to go by you still had a long way to go.

His movements had been stiff and jerky as well, as if he was still sore from the damage from before. It wouldn't be too surprising if he was still feeling some aches and pains, you had just fixed and replaced numerous cells after all. It was a process that would've taken weeks, maybe even longer given the punctured lung and all, had his body have to do the work on its own. With your quirk the time span had been cut down to an hour at the very most. There was bound to be some drawback from speeding up a natural process like that. How grimey he was after his roll in the trash probably wasn't helping things much either.

You had been so lost in your own head checking over the stranger to see how well you work had held up you hadn't noticed he had situated himself on the couch until he began to speak.

"So, you make a hobby out of dragging people outta dumpsters or something?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face and pulling at the surgical staples. Leaning forward with his head cocked and eyeing you in amusement he certainly made for a different picture than the man you found on the ground mere moments ago. His body language was lethargic and the drawl in his voice suggested that he was as relaxed as he could be for waking up in someone else's home. It was a stark contrast from the man you saw earlier who seemed as if he couldn't decide between making a run for it or snapping at you.

His eyes still held that same raw and unnerving intensity, though. You could hardly hold back from squirming under his gaze. The only thing preventing you from doing so was your stubborn pride that prevented you from being intimidated by someone in your own home.

"Or somethin'...," you all but mumbled as you shifted your weight from one foot to the next. If anything it was more of a side effect of you being a bleeding heart with more tenaciousness than common sense.

His eyes narrowed at your answer and you could practically hear the gears turning. Your answer had apparently been vague enough to leave him with more questions than you cared to answer at that moment. You hadn't really been looking to play twenty questions this early in the morning.

He had opened his mouth to say something but you were quick to cut him off.

"Before you go I'd like to give you a quick once over. Just to make sure I didn't miss anything or that the cells haven't gone and done their own thing." It really wouldn't do if he got fixed up just to end up having his body react unexpectedly to the session. While no one had ever left your care worse off than when they came to you, there had been cases -especially when intensive cell and tissue damage had occurred- where your patient's body wanted to either reject the new cells entirely or the rate of cell growth would become concerning.

Biology was such a fickle thing and with your quirk being highly methodological in how you had to go about repairing the damage without disturbing homeostasis, these cases were a source of endless frustration for you. It was always better to make sure the work was done and done right than to send someone off with a different complication.

"Ouch, already planning on throwing me out on the cold dark street?" he said rubbing at his chest as your words had physically hurt, "That's a bit heartless, don't you think?"

The grin that pulled at his cheeks had you slightly concerned the surgical staples that seemed to be holding him together like some overgrown rag doll would be pushed past their limit. You weren't too keen on seeing whatever the result of that would be.

"Heartless would've been letting you bleed out in that alley," you said with a scoff, much too tired to be in the mood for the stranger's teasing. This was familiar territory though, talkative and thinking he was far funnier than he actually was, he fit the bill for the type of clients who you dealt with on the regular. You could practically feel the tension leaving your body from how routine the banter seemed to be. You've suspected that it was a way to save face. It wouldn't really do for most of your clients to have it get out that they had been injured or just how serious their wounds were. "Besides, I figured the reason you ended up face down on my floor was that you were tryin to leave."

The shit-eating smirk on his face dimmed at your words. If you didn't know any better you'd say the man was damn near pouting. Irritation at being caught clear on his face and you had to fight off a grin of your own at the lack of any sly rebuttal.

Taking his silence for permission to get to work you made your way towards the couch and instructed him to sit back. You were mostly concerned about how well the punctured lung had healed as any complication there would be far more serious than any of his other injuries.

"You should probably sweep by the way," the man said as he leaned back to give you better access to the area, "it was a little dusty down there."

You couldn't hold back the snort of amusement. Being someone who had been laid out in some grimy ass alleyway when you found him, dust bunnies should be the least of his concerns.

"Piss off."

The activation of your quirk cast the dark room in a white light that chased away the remaining shadows and the familiar warmth that flooded your veins as you got to work was more than welcomed. When you were younger you had looked for any reason to activate your quirk if only to have the pretty light surround your hands and the cozy feeling it provided. As a result, you would spend so much time physically distorting flowers and trees and when that got too boring ,and your control was much better, you'd genetically alter any and everything. Your mother had nearly had a conniption when she came home to you changing nearly every strand of your siblings hair a different color.

Getting to work, you observed that the cells you had repaired weren't being rejected or proliferating more than expected much to your relief. While it would be easy enough to fix who was to say his body wouldn't have reacted poorly to that either? Activating your quirk and doing basic manipulations had come easily enough to you, you had been doing so since your quirk had appeared. However, there were still things you needed to learn about manipulating things on a much smaller cellular level. You regularly spent hours on end studying biology and anatomy books in hopes of bettering your manipulations. You were making progress, no doubt about that, but the progress was slow and you had a notoriously short patience.

You could feel his eyes on you as you worked. Understandable since you kinda did have to feel the guy up. You had thought yourself immune to the awkwardness that often came with this aspect of the healing process, you had certainly done it enough times to be used to it, but he just made your skin itch as if it was too tight to contain yourself. You weren't sure if you were more unnerved by his staring or your reaction to it.

You were checking over any minor damage you had ignored during the last session, in favor of tackling the much more immediate concerns of a collapsed lung and broken bones, when he decided to speak again.

"So," he sighed as he shifted under your hands, apparently a little antsy himself, "what's the damage doc?"

Doing one final check to make sure nothing had changed in the few moments you had spent observing the recovery of the minor damage, you gave a soft hum in acknowledgment as you removed your hands and began to move away from him.

"Unfortunately, you'll live," you quiped from your newly designated side of the couch, watching as he examined where your hands had been as if he could see the work you did, "You'll experience some mild irritation at most from some minor injuries your body is capable of healing on it's own. You may experience a fainting spell which is a normal reaction to the healing. Just make sure to lay down if you begin to feel lightheaded. Don't operate heavy machinery for at least a week, blasé blasé. You get the gist."

"Why not just fix everything?"

"You're really going to complain about a few bruises after I just stopped you from drowning in your own blood?" you questioned with a raised brow. In all honesty you hadn't healed him fully because you didn't want him to go out and try to get revenge on the person who had him in such a sorry state. If he still had a few aches or bruises he wouldn't be too eager to go and get into another fight. Or at least you hoped as much.

Your remark got a huff of laughter out of him as he stood, ready to head out

"So, this the part where I say 'thank you'?" he questioned sardonic amusement clear in his tone.

"Well that would be what common courtesy and basic manners call for in this type of situation," you said as you rose from your perch to walk him out, "But do me one better and make sure I don't see you again." The best type of patient was the kind you didn't see often, after all.

"You take me home and send me off sayin all of that?" he teased with a soft laugh, "Your really gunna hurt my feelings now."

"I'm sure it isn't the first some someone's done so. Figured you'd be used to it by now," you said dryly as a smile threatened to pull at the corners of your lips. That managed to get a full laugh out of him as the two of you neared the door.

Standing at the door, he looked torn between staying and going. You saw a range of emotions fly across his face far too quickly for you to even determine what the first was let alone any of the others.

"Unluckily for you," he finally said, "my father skipped over the whole...teaching manners thing," he explained with a wave of his hand. You rolled your eyes at the statement. You'd delt the with this type before. They had far too much pride and too fragile of an ego to properly thank you for helping them. You used to be disgruntled by it, your mother having drilled manners into you to the point where if you even thought of being rude or discourteous to someone who you felt didn't deserve such behavior had your stomach twisting in knots. But over time you've grown used to it. Men feeling like they had too much to prove to be bothered with basic decency were unfortunately plentiful when dealing with drug lords and the likes.

"But my mother didn't," he continued, much to your surprise, "so...thanks, for...you know," a gesture of his hands towards his body had you knowing full well what he was trying to convey. The sorry excuse of gratitude was almost laughable.

"Oh, by all means don't strain yourself there," you scoffed, "but yeah, I know. Just...stay outta trouble," you felt as if you were becoming your mother at this point, lord knows she spoke those words to you enough times growing up, "I don't wanna keep having to put you back together. You look like you're damn near falling apart as is," you said with a gesture to the many staples that covered his body.

He smirked at your response and give you a slight nod of acknowledgement at the command you knew in your bones he was going to ignore. "Yeah, yeah," he all but mumbled with a wave of his hand as he opened the door, "could be giving you the same advice. Can't be too safe pulling strangers outta alleyways, don't know which one might just be a villain." And with that cryptic warning the nameless stranger exited your apartment into the darkness of the city that nearly swallowed him whole as soon as he had stepped out.

You closed the door and leaned against it, suddenly feeling the exhaustion from such little sleep creeping back up after the activation of your quirk had sent it away. Looking at the clock, you noticed that what had felt like a lifetime had only passed in thirty minutes or so. There was still some time for a quick nap before you had to actually begin your day.

Dragging yourself back to your room and flopping onto the far too expensive mattress you couldn't help but wonder about the stranger who had just left.

'He was certainly a piece of work,' you thought with a snort. With his smart ass mouth, you were sure he had probably said something slick to the wrong person. You hoped he actually bothered to listen and didn't go looking to start somethin after he left.

Even as you began to lose consciousness and drift off into sleep you had to fight off a chuckle at the thought. He didn't come across as the type that would listen. Your last thought before sleep claimed you was how long it would take before he became a regular.

 _ **A/N: Yeah, I know I know this is movin at such a slow pace. Give it time tho! Hopefully it'll be worth it. They'll learn each other's names soon enough...idk if it'll be the next chapter soon pero like...soonish lol Feel free to let me know if i need to work on anything or somethin cuz I always appreciate feedback or follow me on tumblr cuz that's where things get updated faster - this been up for like a week there lo siento y'all the last to get it**_


	3. On Kamino Ward and Complicity

"You won't tell my mom will you?"

You gave the boy a dry look, your brow raised at the question 1he had asked over twenty times at that point as you finished healing the exit wounds that had littered his torso not an hour before.

"I haven't decided yet," you shrugged, trying to focus on creating new cells to replace the ones beyond repair, "She'd skin me alive if she found out I didn't tell her…"

Yuichi's face lost all color, your words rendering him far paler than he was when his friends had dragged him to your door earlier. You had to bite your lip to contain the smile that threatened to break across your face at the kid's meek expression. You were positive the thought of Mrs. Ishimori's temper had reduced you and your sibling's faces to the same look a time or two.

His mother was a kind woman no doubt, going out of her way more often than what was required of her for you and your siblings growing up - practically treating the lot of you like her own children. Even now, at your big age, she still treated you like you like the same scrawny kid who would follow her around like some lost duckling. But, damn, if that woman didn't have a temper on her - especially when she thought one of you kids were up to no good or lying to her.

And you weren't looking to lying to her again to cover for Yuichi, but the only alternative would be to tell the woman what her son had gotten himself caught up in. Seeing how her face broke once she found out her son got into pushing for a local syndicate, and all the extra money he was bringing in for her medication wasn't from extra shifts from the job he had quit months ago, wasn't something you were looking forward to, funny enough.

No doubt the guilt of not saying anything to would eat you alive as you laid awake in bed that night, and you had made a promise you'd tell her eventually if Yuichi didn't. Just, not today.

"Wouldn't have to worry bout me tellin her nothin if you knew how to keep yourself outta this kinda shit."

You'd been annoyed to hear the banging on your front door after having arrived home from a twelve hour shift at the clinic. You were planning on making your rounds in an hour or two, visiting neighbors whose condition required more regular monitoring, and you'd have to stay up a bit late tonight to make sure none of the local sects needed your help.

The weather was getting better after all; warmer weather always meant more work for you.

You had been hoping for some peace and quiet until then, however, that sentiment had quickly vanished when you opened the door and saw the wild eyes teens carrying the boy, begging you to do something.

They'd given you some rushed explanation you didn't care to hear, far too focused on the boy you'd spent years chasing after bleeding out on your couch.

It always felt like you had the wind knocked out of you anytime you saw the kids of the ward being brought in. Their small hands used to cling to your school uniform when you'd walk them home after school and now that they were older they'd cling to the sidewalk they'd been more than ready to die for.

Now that things had calmed down, you could feel irritation bubbling to the surface and replacing the adreniline and anxiety that had clouded your head the moment you had seen him broken and bleeding. The boy had known better than to be selling on territory that had been the cause of a turf war between his group and a rival sect.

When he let out an aggravated groan at you words you had to remind yourself that smacking him upside his thick skull, which he was very much deserving of, wasn't going to help things or get your words to actually stick with him any better.

"It ain't nothin-"

You really couldn't hold back your scoff then, the kid was really pushin it today. "'Ain't nothin' when them kids dragged you here half dead?"

"It wasn't that bad," he grumbled as he refused to meet your eyes.

"You got shot six times, Yuichi." It was like he didn't understand that he could've just as easily died on the streets today than be havin this conversation with you. Of course this willful ignorance didn't seem to be something of his own design - you'd noticed it a lot with the younger kids. It was like they'd convinced themselves as long as you were there to fix them up they wouldn't have to worry about their own mortality or something. The older folks never seemed to have that same sentiment; they'd be brought up and active before you became the resident healer for the ward. Maybe there was some correlation there?

Maybe you were making things worse? You could feel your insides twist at the thought.

"What if the next time they got a better aim? Or what if it's the police or some hero that rolls up?"

"I ain't stupid," he insisted, " I ain't never been busted"

' _And of course that's the part he focused on_ ,' you thought bitterly.

"Yeah, cuz you've been lucky - don't get it twisted."

Your words caused the stubborn boy to sit in silence, his head turned away from you as he practically pouted. You're positive he would've got up and left if there still wasn't a hole in his chest.

You always hated bein the one to have to have this conversation with him.

"Look,dusty little boy, I'm only sayin this cuz I like you." It had become second nature for you to look out for the little hot head, you'd spent far too many years makin chasing after him to make sure he didn't get into any trouble to just stop now.

Too bad it seemed like it hadn't mattered in the end considering what he was choosing to do in his free time.

"And cuz your mama's heart would be hurtin somethin crazy if you ain't come home one day." You couldn't imagine she'd be able to survive that kind of heartache. You felt like you couldn't most days. "And cuz I like you and your mama I ain't gunna say nothin - You break her heart yourself I don't want no part in it."

The boy had the nerve to roll his eyes before giving you a stiff nod. He was more than aware of how his mother would feel, you'd only told him as much every time he'd come to you to get fixed up. You weren't sure there was much else you could do for him at this point, he needed something but you weren't sure you were the one who was able to provide it for him.

You fixed bodies. Not homes or communities or people - you didn't know how to do all of that. You weren't sure where to even start. Some days it felt like maybe just fixing the bodies was enough, like if you put managed to have a week or month with no unnecessary deaths then you was doin something right.

This wasn't one of those days.

"How is she by the way?" you ask, trying to get out of your own head as much as you were trying to pull the sulking teen out of his,"I haven't seen either of you in awhile."

Neither of you mention how you've avoided the corner their apartment was on for the past few weeks. The one where a memorial to Twiggy had sprung up from where his blood had dried on the concrete.

"Fine, I guess." The light from your quirk dimmed and you gave a nod to the boy. He rose from the couch and gave an experimental poke at where the bullets had torn through his chest, "Her heart ain't been giving her problems since your last visit."

That had lifted a weight from your chest you hadn't realized was there. You wondered how long it had been since the last time you could breathe easy.

Probably before Mrs. Ishimori's condition had deteriorated. She had always been a sickly woman but it never stopped her from chasing after you and the rest of the neighborhood kids. Not until her condition began attacking the connective tissues in her body. Suddenly she'd been in and out of the hospital weekly and your mother would always send you and your siblings to watch after Yuichi or run errands for her that you'd seen her do just fine on her own a million times before.

It had been odd to see her so unlike herself. No doubt Yuichi felt the same.

She'd rejected your help for the longest time, insisting she wasn't in nearly as bad of a condition as some of the other people you helped. No doubt she was just too prideful to ask help from one of the brats she spent so much time taking care of. Her ego would surely take a hit from the change in the dynamic. Yuichi no doubt got his own stubborn streak from her as much as the woman complained about it.

Mrs. Ishimori had held onto her pride for sometime too, until the hospital bills had piled up far too high and the cost of her many medications became far too much for her to handle.

It had been touch and go there for a bit, you'd have a session with her but the symptoms would return a month or two later - alleviated by some measure but still present. You'd scoured any source you could on her condition, looking up as many treatments and studies on the disorder as you possibly could. The most recent session you'd had with her had been experimental, an educated guess based on the findings of one of the more recent trials done by some researchers overseas. Translating their work had been a pain in the ass but apparently it had paid off.

"I might stop by later this week ," you said, rising to your feet and giving the boy one last look over to make sure none of the wounds had opened from his poking and prodding before sending him on his way, "just to make sure."

He didn't call you out on how bad of an excuse it was.

"Yeah, she'd like that." He turned to walk to the door but you'd seen the small smile on his face before he had. You hated having these conversations with him but you'd hate them even more if he left on bad terms with you. He wasn't clueless, a bit reckless sure but he knew what he was doing. All you could do was trust that he'd come to you when he needed help.

You walked him to the door, teasing him about some girl you'd seen around the neighborhood that rumor had it he was being sweet on, as you prepared to send him back out onto the streets that would've memorialized him, just like they did Twiggy, had he not made it to you.

Your eyes widened in surprise when there's someone in front of the door when it swings open. You wouldn't have recognized the man on the other side if he didn't have such a distinctive look, it had been a week or so since you last saw him after all.

His hand had been raised as if he was about to knock and there's a beat of silence as you shoot him a questioning look. He doesn't offer an explanation, his raised hand just moving to rub the back of his neck as Yuichi looks between the two of you with a raised brow.

You gave the boy an unamused look as you watched the 'knowing' smile grow across his face.

He really was pushin his luck today.

"Aight you go on home now," you said, leaning against the door frame, "and at least try to stay outta trouble."

'Yeah, yeah I heard you," the little brat said with a wave of his hand as he hurried out.

You gave a huff as you watch him make his way down the hall, the little smart ass would no doubt be buggin you the next time he saw you about why some guy he'd never seen around the ward was visiting you.

"They hit a certain height and start thinkin they grown," you sighed with a shake of your head, mostly trying to fill the uncomfortable silence than actually trying to make conversation with the man beside you. You turned to your eyes to the stranger, eyeing him to see if you could find any visible issue with the wounds you had healed before. "Ya know, most people visit sooner if there's an issue with the healing."

He gave a noncommittal shrug, "Don't usually remember all the houses I leave at four in the morning. Had to ask around for you."

And that must've been a pain in the ass to do. Most people around here don't like folks asking too many questions, especially if they don't know them. Asking for you tends to set off red flags for people considering the type of people you usually work with.

You gave a nod in understanding as you pushed the door further open, inviting him in with a lazy flourish of a hand as you made your way across the threshold.

He made his way to your couch and got comfortable as you activated your quirk, the light filling the small space of your living room.

Just looking at him, he didn't seem to be in any extreme pain. There was no limping, his breathing was strong and even, there were no visible bruises or open wounds. You were wondering if he came to you just to fix some aches and pains, those kinds of visits always annoyed you. You had much more important things to be doing, like helping someone with an actual problem or shit just sleeping. Of course you never turned those types of visits away, so it wasn't like you were helping the situation.

Not like you could judge him just based on appearances before you could check how things were looking on the inside or at the cellular level, either.

It was a bit different doing this when he's not half delirious and in pain, it was the type of unfamiliarity that had your skin crawling and you searching for something to say to drown out the silence as your hands moved to where you could faintly remember his body had been torn up.

"So, you not from around here."

You wanted to smack yourself for such a cliche opener. You made sure to keep your eyes on your hands to avoid whatever weird look he must've given you.

Lucky for you he seemed to find it amusing if the low chuckle was anything to go by.

"That didn't sound like much of a question."

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"Wasn't really spose to be one, I ain't ever seen you round Kamino before - at least not this side of the ward."

Kamino wasn't too big and people tended to know which faces were regulars and which weren't - if he had a hard time asking about you then you could only assume nobody in the ward recognized him and he was some fresh meat for one of the syndicates or looking to make a name for himself.

You could feel the vibrations running through his chest from the small hum he gave in response.

"Well, you caught me - I'm new in town, only been here a few weeks."

"Oh? Seems like you wasted no time pissin the wrong person off." He could probably tell you were fishing for information, it wasn't like you cared all the much to be subtle about it.

"Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people."

"Word? And how's that workin out for ya?" From what you could feel it seemed the wounds had closed up well enough as far as his lung was concerned, the new cells weren't being rejected and none of them were dying off or creating new ones at an alarming rate. Happy with how well the healing for that area had went you shifted to focus on the less serious wounds, trying to find which was causing him irritation.

"Not as bad as you'd think," he said with a small shrug, the movement disrupting your quirk and you had to focus it back to the area it had been examining.

You let his statement hang between the two of you unchallenged. While you would've argued a punctured lung wasn't all that great you didn't feel like getting into it with someone you didn't know and decided to leave well enough alone for once.

You were more than ready to sit in silence for the rest of the session, the small conversation having set your nerves at ease, but it seemed like he had other plans.

"So why do you do all this?"

The question caught you off guard.

"You gunna have to be a bit more specific." You both knew what he was asking about, but you didn't feel like spilling your guts to some stranger who probably couldn't care less.

"When I was asking around, they said you go around fixing people up, free of charge - that doesn't sound like a very good business model."

Your eyes lifted from your hands to meet the sharp teal of his own, you wanted to judge his sincerity before actually giving him an answer. Plenty of people have asked why just to try and start an argument with you about it and you weren't about to sit through another one of those.

"It's not about money," you shrugged, eyes going back to your hands as you moved on to the next area, not bothering explaining how you'd rather be literally bankrupt than morally bankrupt.

"Obviously, but what _is_ it all about, then?"

A frustrated huff left you at his insistence. You struggled to find the words to explain the behavior just to yourself let alone trying to make it make sense to some stranger who hadn't been in Kamino that long.

"Who else is gunna do it?" It wasn't meant to be a literal question, after years of asking you already knew the answer was nobody. "There's no hospital here and the two clinics that are can't do nothin for the cases that are the most common." It wasn't like he couldn't have known this on his own - it was pretty common knowledge in the ward and something he should've looked up before deciding to try and make a home out of it.

"And how did healing villains and criminals become a part of that?"

Your hands paused in their movements, you were far too focused on trying to find the right words to explain something like this to someone who didn't seem to have any real ties to Kamino.

You settled with a shrug before beginning your work again, "They're members of the ward too ain't they? Ain't none of my business what they do."

"Even if it means they're killing people? Some people might say you're complicit."

"And those people ain't know what the fuck they're talking about," unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, "They've agreed to settle some things down since I started, less people been dying - I'd take that over how things used to be." You remember a time when it seemed every other week there'd be flowers and candles posted up on some corner and your class at school would be one or two people smaller. You were tired of every other corner had a story where someone ended up hurt.

"Why not just go to the government for all of this? Seems like every other year they got some plan for how to fix Kamino."

You couldn't hold back the resentful scoff at the suggestion. "How you figure I ask them?" you could feel the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth - the thought of those big men in suits ever thinking to invite someone like you to sit and talk with them was just so far removed from reality, it made you wonder just where the hell this guy had come from to be suggesting that sort of thing. "They think everyone in Kamino is ignorant or a criminal, ain't no way in hell they making space for us. And you've seen how well all their plans go over, yeah? They either never go into effect or fall through. They all wanna say they know how to fix Kamino but ain't ever been to Kamino"

"And you know how to fix it?"

"I ain't say all that," you insisted, "I just know whatever they have planned ain't gunna help the people here. It'll just make people in the surrounding wards feel better."

More heroes and police patrolling the area made others feel better, the bad guys were getting locked away after all, but they never actually fixed anything. The violence and crime never went down because the reason people were drawn to it were never addressed. But it was easier to just label the ward as 'Villain Prone' instead of actually implementing new policy to help a 'villain prone' population.

No, they could keep their plans and all that shit to themselves, let them make finger paintings with all the blood on their hands to try and convince the rest of the country they had done something extraordinary. You knew the truth.

"So they're playing at some fake savior shit?" the stranger questioned.

You met his gaze as you eyed him apprehensively. He had a smirk tugging on the surgical staples in his cheeks and his eyes seemed distant, like he was looking through you.

"Yeah, something like that," you murmured as the light of your quirk dimmed, the warmth of it leaving you to be replaced by an unfamiliar chill.

While the two of you spoke you had checked and triple checked your work but couldn't seem to find what had been bothering him. There was no sign of remaining damage from his wounds, all of the tissues had healed, the replaced cells had been accepted and weren't dying or multiplying at a concerning rate - he was as healthy as he could be.

So why had he come to you?

You rose to your feet, wringing your hands together to try and hide how they had began to shake, "I couldn't find anything wrong with my work, you're probably having phantom pains - I'm afraid I can't help with that sorta thing." You offered a small shaky smile, fighting off the fight or flight reaction to his lie as adrenaline sent blood ringing in your ears.

He gave a nod as he rose to his feet, you'd noticed before but hadn't really paid attention to how his form towered over you - now it was all you could think of as you walked him to the door.

You hoped he took your out and left, that your gut feeling was wrong and he had lied because he was curious or something. It would certainly explain away all the questions he had asked.

But you'd survived reading men like him, his demeanor as he walked behind you was relaxed, but you had seen his eyes before you had turned to walk to the door. They had been sharp and predatory.

When you went to open the door and his arm reached around you to lean against it, effectively caging you in and closing off any exit, you closed your eyes as you cursed yourself for not noticing how off he was earlier.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, hoping to school your emotions so that just a confused and unassuming look was left on your face.

"Do you need something?" you questioned, your voice far smaller than you were used to; you almost didn't recognize it.

You watched how his sharp eyes scanned your face, looking for something and when a smile worked its way onto his face you felt your stomach drop. Apparently, he'd found what he was looking for.

"Just a bit of your time."

Panic seeped through you at the words and you went to move, where exactly you weren't sure but anything to put some distance between you and the man was preferable, but he was far quicker - probably having anticipated your feeble attempt at escape. He pulled you close to him, an arm around your middle and the other stabbing a syringe to your neck before you even had time to understand what was happening.

You tried to fight him off, grabbing a hold of the arm with the syringe and activating your quirk - your heart beating far too quickly against your rib cage and your brain too clouded by fear to think of what you were doing. You could feel blood streaming from where you had a hold of him, could practically hear the bone shatter under your hand as he cursed before wheeling away from you.

The sudden lack of support and no doubt the sedative that must've been in the syringe had you crashing to the floor, struggling to keep your eyes open let alone get your limbs to cooperate with you so you could get the hell out of there.

You tried to stay awake, tried to move away from him as he neared you, the damage to his arm not having been enough to stop whatever he had planned, but your head was already swimming and your movements were weak and uncoordinated when you went to catch his good arm, or any part of him really, in your hands so your quirk could go to work.

He restrained you easily enough and you felt tears rush down your face, wondering just what faction you must've pissed off to have them send someone to do god knows what to you.

Dabi watched as their lids became heavy and their resistance slowed to a stop, seconds later their breathing evened out as their eyes closed and the drugs took hold. He released the hold he had them in and bit back a pained noise as the sharp aching pain from him arm finally began to fully register with him.

His eyes narrowed as he examined the mangled state of it, as if the staples holding it together before hadn't been an issue...they had damn near pulverized the bones and the deep tears in his charred skin allowed some of the fragments to be visible.

It was nauseating to see and it had been more of a struggle than he cared to admit to pull out his phone to get the asshole on the line as his head began to swim with pain and adrenaline.

He had a bit surprised the little healer had some bite to them, he was a bit impressed to be honest. As sloppy as they were, the damage was still pretty damn effective - he's sure if he hadn't already put his body through hell and back it would be a hell of a lot more distracting.

As he talked with Shigaraki and told him to get Kurogiri to open a warp gate for him, he couldn't tell if it was excitement or irritation building in him. 'Probably both,' he thought with a glance to the little menace. Or maybe it was just the pain doing weird shit to his head.

Either way, things would be a lot more interesting around the base.


End file.
